I had to post one more entry tonight. I just finished eating and now I'm sitting down to let everything settle. I'm absolutely stuffed, but there's enough for at least one more meal for the two of us so that's good.

Something kind of strange happened though just before I was ready to serve the food. I had the sauce on my favorite burner, (front right), the pasta in the strainer in the sink, and the timer had just gone off for the biscuits. I turned off the oven and reached in to get the pan with the biscuits. As I pulled them out, for only about the second time since we moved in here almost four and a half years ago, the smoke alarm went off. The weird thing is that there wasn't any smoke that we could smell. It was kind of odd. Everything tasted good though, and nothing was burned. So the reason for the smoke alarm is a total mystery. At least it was nice enough today that we had a couple of windows open and we put on the ceiling fans and things to get rid of whatever the problem was.

This incident reminds me of a story that I just have to tell, so sorry guys. I had literally just turned nineteen, and was living in my first apartment. It was a total dive, but it was mine. It was one of those efficiency apartments with a bedroom/living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom. I also had the added benefit of a very large unheated storage area that doubled as an additional freezer that winter. My oven was gas, (which in itself sort of scared me at first but now I absolutely love gas), and in between the two sets of burners was a built-in griddle. I was absolutely dying to try it because I thought it would be really neat. So, on a January morning, only about two months after I'd moved in, I was in my pajamas in front of the stove with a bowl of pancake batter, and a friend sleeping in the next room. My plan was to wake her up with the smell of fresh pancakes. Well, things didn't quite go the way I'd hoped they'd go. I discovered that flipping pancakes wasn't as easy as it sounded. As I fought with the partially cooked batter, trying to flip it, I started to lose track of what I was doing, and where the stuff was that I was supposed to be flipping. I was bound and determined though that I was going to make pancakes. Just as I was getting ready to try flipping things again, the sound of my smoke alarm scared the crap out of me. I completely freaked out. I turned off the griddle and asked my friend, (now wide awake), how to turn the stupid thing off. She had no clue. So, in my stocking feet and pajamas, (I did at least have the sense to grab a jacket I think), I ran down the stairs, out into a very cold January morning in Wisconsin with snow and ice and into the business that was below me and asked them how I was supposed to turn off my smoke alarm. I can only imagine how much I drove those poor ladies crazy in the few months that I lived there, but they were great to have around. They just calmly told me to wave a dish towel under the alarm and it would stop. So, I ran back upstairs where the alarm was still shrieking and grabbed the only thing I had; an extra-long oven mitt. It worked, and the alarm finally shut off. Then the realization of the situation hit me, and the embarrassment came full force. I'd walked into a public place of business with my pajamas on, no bra, and, well, it was just really embarrassing. Over the next few months before I ended up moving out because my landlord was a total jerk I had many other experiences, but none were anything close to that one. I learned a lot from that first apartment though, and I wouldn't trade the experience for anything.

Eleven years later I'd like to think that my culinary skills have improved, along with my ability to cope with the situations that come up when there is a problem. Now, when I look back on that morning in 1996 I can laugh at myself. It was just one of those things, but I'll never forget it either.

So, that's my little ramble for today. I just happened to think about it and thought I'd share. In other news, I keep forgetting to tell everyone that my tax returns are in, and safely stashed away for this summer. I'll be able to sit back and laugh at all the people who are frantically trying to get their taxes in on April 15th as the clock ticks closer and closer to midnight, and I'll be happy knowing that I've all ready been a good citizen for paying my taxes early. SMILE! Later, everyone!